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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26558701">the invisible girl club</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardlyawake/pseuds/hardlyawake'>hardlyawake</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek &amp; Paul/Levenson, Next to Normal - Kitt/Yorkey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, takes place in 2009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:01:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>563</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26558701</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardlyawake/pseuds/hardlyawake</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Natalie stays for her senior year, trying to enjoy the last of her high school years. A junior, Zoe Murphy, loses her brother to suicide. Two girls who could really use some new friends gravitate towards each other and try to cope with their family lives.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Natalie Goodman &amp; Zoe Murphy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the invisible girl club</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Natalie was not an angry person.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, despite everything, she was not going to start out her senior year by getting pissed at some poor kid at eight in the morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Except, you know, she was supposed to have this rehearsal room fifteen minutes ago. She had postponed graduating early so she could spend a year working on her music and making the most of her last high school year, and here someone was hogging the rehearsal room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe it would be okay if the person was actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>playing music</span>
  </em>
  <span>. All Natalie had heard for the past eight minutes was a girl giggling and some excruciatingly pitchy scratches, characteristic of an electric guitar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At 8:05 on the dot, Natalie heaved a sigh. If Henry were here, he would tell her that whoever’s inside is probably just jamming, and she should leave them be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry was not here, though, and Natalie restrained herself from actually throwing the door open. Instead, she settled on grinding her teeth and fixing her iciest stare on whoever had the balls to--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zoe Murphy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Natalie stopped in her tracks, just a few feet in front of the girl seated on one of their music room’s cheap black chairs. Zoe’s head tilted up at her, headphones slipping down onto her shoulders as she stared back, dumbfounded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Natalie said curtly, but maybe less curtly than she’d planned on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Zoe gave her a smile in response and a small wave, guitar pick still in hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Natalie bit back another sigh. She always had trouble talking to underclassmen; either they were self-obsessed cheerleaders who intimidated her half to death, or they were Zoe Murphy’s, who looked fresh out of middle school and yet to be completely destroyed by the corrupt machine that was U.S. education. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>...Maybe she’d been hanging out with Henry too much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was supposed to have the room at 7:45,” Natalie settled on. She glanced at her watch, teal and tacky (but it was a Christmas gift), “And it’s 8:05.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” Zoe’s smile melted and she took her headphones off, rushing out an apology. “Are you Natalie? I’m sorry, I was jamming, and then when no one knocked at 7:45 I figured you were a no-show...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Natalie watched with bewilderment as Zoe set to cleaning up her things, rambling the whole way through. “Room policy is to be out by the set time...It’s on the door.” She provided matter-of-factly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Zoe replied, a bit out of breath. She seemed more distracted than frantic, really, as she slung her backpack over her shoulders. “All yours.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She presented an oblivious smile to Natalie once again, implying this had resolved the issue completely, and outstretched a hand. “I’m Zoe, by the way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Natalie, finding herself in an increasingly and annoyingly chipper situation, took her hand and shook it. “Yeah, I’ve seen you around.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then she added, after a moment, “I’m Natalie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have a good session,” Zoe said happily, before she was out the door with her Jansport backpack and shell guitar case.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At last, Natalie had the rehearsal room to herself, with a whopping 25 minutes until her first class. She sighed, for the umpteenth time that morning, and wiped her hand on her jeans. Either it was just the nature of playing guitar, or that Zoe Murphy girl had a serious sweating problem. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A short first chapter, I know! I figured it would serve as a good prologue, next chapter will feature some angst.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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